


Business Expenses

by Valaquesse, WaldosAkimbo



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Biting, Blasphemy, Blood, Brat, Gabriel Has a Penis (Good Omens), Gabriel is a eunuch (Good Omens), He/They Pronouns For Gabriel (Good Omens), Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, Light Bondage, Nipple Clamps, Nonbinary Beelzebub (Good Omens), Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Other, Penis In Vagina Sex, Scratching, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Authors are going to Hell, They/Them Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), Wing Trauma, brat apologist, gross matter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22477900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valaquesse/pseuds/Valaquesse, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaldosAkimbo/pseuds/WaldosAkimbo
Summary: Post Nopocalypse/Failmageddon/Ragnanot - Beelzebub and Gabriel meet covertly to swap intel and ideas on where Heaven and Hell want to go next. Wasting time and decompressing after the battle is cancelled. Shenanigans and sexy times ensue.
Relationships: Beelzebub & Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16
Collections: Gather Ye Sinners for GOmens RP Collection





	1. Deluxe

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. This is my first published fic - adapted from an RP with WaldosAkimbo.  
> I think I have all the tags - please let me know if I need moar!  
> I apologise about the weird line spaceing.  
> I don't really know what to say. Enjoy! - V  
> No Graphic Violence yet. Will add content warning in notes for relevant sections.  
> New chapter on Thursdays.

The sores across their lips were gummy and stung when they licked them out of idle habit. It was decided, on a whim, not to clean themselves up this time for their visit to Earth, as they were feeling particularly... _dour_. 

Whispers travelled faster than fire through the hallways of Hell. Gossip was worth more than gold. And Erics tended to vary from incarnation to incarnation, but they always talked. 

They _all_ talked. They talked and they talked and they moaned and they groaned and they screamed and they shouted and they whispered and they yelled. They were a droning that could not be drowned out, even with the closest swarm of flies, which was indeed a tactic Beelzebub used when they were overwhelmed and had no other solution. 

_Earth_ was equally noisy. 

In the cities, absolutely. In the minds, more so. Not that Beelzebub travelled through the minds of men, but demons have intuitions and angels and princes have, well, a firm grip and a mean sneer and the balls to say they're in charge. That's about it. Least, that's how it felt most days.

Still, even with the whole stupid planet still going, still turning, _against many, many, many express wishes_ , Beelzebub found a spot, a frothy drink with too many artificial flavors and sugars to be anything short of an abomination, and sat there. Waiting.

_BOOOM!_

A loud peel in the street outside, a flash of light and the heavens opened. Quite literally.

The sudden rain caught pedestrians, drivers and most sapient forms of life off guard. Sirens and car horns and the rumble of the arriving storm quickly added to the cacophony. 

He sure liked to make an entrance. Probably unwise given the situation they were in but difficult to control. He descended splitting the molecules of the air as he went, riding a jolt of pure energy straight into the pavement.

Stinking of ozone and nitrate he pushed into the now darkened ice cream parlour with a face full of heaven's wrath _and several of its other sins too_. Locking eyes with Beelzebub, he wrinkled his nose and strode over in that long lilac-grey coat and scarf of his. 

Towering over his adversary, the figure looked around in disdain; "You could've picked somewhere nicer."

"You could have done something different with your hair," Beelzebub shot back, hardly changing their expression or tone. 

They licked their lip again and immediately hooked one of their shoes around a leg of the chair so it would be inconvenient for him to sit down.

People outside scrambled to get out of the rain, assuming it was a flash storm and struggling to find cover. It was occult and ethereal intervention that stopped the stupid mortals from seeing their miraculous appearances. _Usually._

Some people stared. They were often people overlooked for seeing ghosts and talking about visitors from another world.

Generally, though, they kept a strong glamour around themselves that made people see them as things and then forget it shortly after.

Gabriel, the Archangel, messenger of the heavens and guardian of the holy land could only give a trademark sardonic grin in retort. 

His brow furrowed examining the décor of the room. Purple, black and chrome seemed to be the only colours the proprietor had known; unless you consider glitter a colour. It was everywhere, the walls, the floor, the seating and tables. The only place it did not seem to be was the embroidered logo on the back of some of the fake leather booths. ' _Splash of Cream_ ' it said over a stylised white swirl that could represent several substances; none of which seemed appropriate for the shop. It reminded Gabriel more of a discothèque or maybe a strip club, rather than somewhere to acquire sugary dairy products.

Grabbing the chair that Bee had kindly indicated was available, he sat down. He tried to sit down and had a little tug-o-war with them until they unhooked their foot and then, yes. He sat down. Hunching his broad form over the small table between them and trying to conduct business.

"So then. Let's talk."

Beelzebub brought a purple straw that matched the decor up to their mouth and sucked. They were persistent, staring, slurping, and gulping in a theatrical display akin to a brat.

It took some thirty seconds. Bordering on a minute. Accompanied by a stare, long and hard enough that one of them should blink, even if they did not need to.

When they had practically drained it except for the whip on top, Beelzebub sat back and crossed their arms. 

"How long did it take you to get everyone to back down?" they finally asked with a little companionable smile and tilt of their head, two equals comparing stats. "Anybody pull any shit over the announcement it was all canceled?"

Watching the demon prince's display in open disgust, the Archangel considered the question. 

"Well, it's been, what? A month? Managed to finally get everyone just about calm several days ago." 

Running a frustrated hand across the back of his neck, he stretched and sat more upright. It was not the unwillingness to stand down Gabriel had struggled with. There had been a sizable minority who gave the distinct impression they lacked conviction for the Great War in the first place and were much more content with their own affairs. Maintaining the universal constants, answering prayers, composing new harmonies; that kind of thing. Gabriel had struggled more with the ones disgruntled by rumours, that those who stood down too earnestly were being 'moved on'. 

As an Archangel often associated with dealing out punishment to the less scrupulous, he had found himself in a multitude of confrontations. Divinities who clearly had no intention of fighting but insistently adopted a violent fervour entirely for appearance. For fear, he reasoned. Angels that thought they were being tested. Quite frankly, he did not blame them. After that there was the clean up. The logistics of which had been a nightmare.

"I've just gotten out of two solid days of tedious meetings listening to Michael and Uriel debating the whole thing. I don't know who had the time to put the slideshow together but... fffff... talk about shirking. I think we only had to dispatch thirty or so. Condemned for going AWOL. I haven't had to do that in a while." 

He looked mildly disturbed but Gabriel was relieved to be able to bitch about it; now he was here. Heaven was a mess and no one knew what they were doing.

"How's it fairing downstairs?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, you know," they answered with a heavier sigh, that same comfortable relief of getting to speak with someone who seemed to _‘get’_ it. "Why they think starting a riot every thirty seconds is going to prove they're still bad enough to serve Satan."

Beelzebub snorted then and looked more upset than when they had been trying to convince that Antichrist brat.

"'Serve Satan.' That wasn't the bloody point! It was free will that got....." 

There was a sizable thrumming buzz that gathered nearby, a swarm gathering like black thunderheads on the horizon. Beelzebub just adjusted their coat and sat back, pouting.

"Either way...it's done."

" _Ughh._ " 

Gabriel groaned. He really did not want to hear Bee start some pompous lecture on the distant past.

"It's like no one can move on from that." He sighed. "It's all Michael and Sandalphon have talked about; the last War and why it's important we have another one. What point we're trying to prove." He was tapping his foot in agitation now. " _They_ want to try again."

"Do _they_?"

It was a surprising jolt that just sat like curdled milk in their stomach.

Should be a good thing, restarting. Should be exactly what they were striving for, right? The nerves, just before they were all supposed to surge to earth and duke it out. And prince it out. Maybe even a little legion it out. _No_ , the legions always repopulated way too fast there was nothing _‘little’_ about bringing them on board.

Beelzebub briefly wished they had those stupid sunglasses that traitor Crowley had. They could see the appeal.

"What do _you_ think?"

It did not go unnoticed by the Archangel that the adversary, Beelzebub, had flinched at the mention of another war. Or was at least surprised by it. He inspected them closer, narrowing his eyes. Did that mean _hell hadn't considered it as an option yet?_

"What do I think?" he started. "Pfffft." 

He was tired. He had not felt tired like this in a long time. Not since he had to tell a small impoverished fourteen year old girl she was going to be pregnant; whether she wanted it or not. That her child would be bestowed upon her by the merciful Lord and would be the new messiah, the anointed one. She had not even been given the option to name them. 

"There's seven of us Archangels. Sandalphon and Metatron will probably get a say. If it comes to a vote..." he sighed, "I don't know."

"I wonder if _they_ want a vote." Beezlebub shifted in their chair before they brought their hands up to calmly wrap around their drink again. "We'd have to get everyone back. I think Paimon's busy with a coven of witches somewhere." 

They shrugged, finally studying Gabriel, looking him up and down and up again. Gabriel had been disdainful, but had not outright clarified a stance.

"But what do _you_ think?"

The repetition of the question staggered him.

"I suppose I didn't really answer; did I?" He looked into Bee's face and blushed and looked down. Watching their hands trace around the cup and searching for something to say. "I suppose" he tried again. "I suppose I prefer Uriel's take. Which is we wait for word from the Metatron on what God wants us to do."

He made a dismissive gesture, like swatting an invisible fly.

"But it's not really a solution. Just more waiting around." Leaning in a little and lowering his voice. " _Bee?_ If you're really asking me. The answer is, I don't know. But I am curious... about those two dimwits who managed to cancel it. What if they have a point?"

"Their point is that they're stupid," they snapped before they reached out and covered Gabriel's hand. "If we're waiting...." They looked around at the black and purple interiors, the booths and the tall black ceiling above them. The heavy scent of sugar and cream was almost clotting. "We don't have to wait here."

The contact took him by surprise and he froze in place looking from the touch up to the demon Prince's anxious face. 

"Did you have somewhere in mind?" 

A devilish grin replaced his shocked one and he covered Bee's hand in turn.

Beelzebub snuck their other hand up and grabbed his chin, pulling him closer, like they almost might kiss. It would be rough, meeting too fast, but they just paused and stared at them with those gold blue eyes. They dug their fingers slightly into his cheek.

"There's a fast food spot down the block."

Suppressing the startled sound he made did not work in the Archangel's favour as he bit down on his lip to stop himself. He completely failed to disguise the desire in his lavender eyes. Lost, momentarily to the realm of possibilities; a nail pressed into his skin brought him back into the room.

"You," he replied, "are the _worst_."

Beelzebub dragged their nail down before it reached the end of their chin, then gave a soft slap, a mere pat compared to what they could do.

The truth was, being here with Gabriel did make them feel better and they would never admit it to Heaven or Hell under torture, but they wanted more time to decompress. And to continue touching that stupid rugged face. Touching on their terms.

Beelzebub simply knocked over their mostly finished cup and stood back up, heading out the door. Their hands staying still by their side, natural for them but an apparently strange and stiff gait for anyone paying attention.

Gabriel could only express so much exasperation through the sound of his breath. He stood the glass back up, poignantly and tailed them. After a minute of following the ‘ _mischievous little shit’_ , the Archangel gave in to the power play. 

"Where are we _actually_ going?"

Beelzebub didn't look up at him, but they slowed noticeably to walk beside. They just let the world hum around them before the flies returned to help cocoon them. 

"Help me find a hotel," they answered.

" _Ugh_. Bee, you're such a brat."

Gabriel appreciated being given the selection. Beelzebub had horrendous taste and would likely stick them in a cheap hostel. The kind with rubber sheets.

"Hmmm... I think I know a place."

Leading them towards a train station and around he picked out one of a line of new build towers. The kind of place usually covered by business expenses. 

It was sleek and clean and modern. The blonde desk clerk eyed them nervously. Gabriel, they understood; smart, casually dressed, middle aged, white man - good looking, seemed rich, _big dick?_ At least big dick energy. He looked the part. Beelzebub on the other hand... _well_.

Beezlebub leaned against their counter, already leaving a slightly black stain. They crossed their arms, struggling to stand on their tip toes to look across and gave a tight, forced smile. These transactional moments with mortals were a strain, but they had figured out how to play nice with the boy, Adam, if for a moment, so it was not entirely a stretch to do the same for a quick interaction here.

Maybe literally a stretch. 

"Hello. We need a room. You're the one to give them out, yes?"

The clerk flinched at the entity standing across from them. _What was that smell? Could they hear flies?_

Their customer service training kicked in and they gave a polite smile. Then looked up to Gabriel for reassurance and found very little. If you pressed them to guess the situation; they would have said maybe Beelzebub was homeless. That the taller gentleman was kindly providing them a room for the night. Or at least a shower. Or something much sleazier.

"I suppose I am," they beamed forcefully. "Is that a single room for you, for each of you, a standard twin, a standard double or a deluxe suite?" 

They paused for a second. "You'll be pleased to know they all come with a continental breakfast as standard but you can upgrade to a cooked breakfast for £5 per guest."

"The deluxe suite," Beelzebub answered promptly. They felt _deluxe_. They were a prince of hell. Course, they would be just as happy in the hostel with the rubber sheets or, barring that, a trash heap out back.

"Would you like to upgrade to a cooked breakfast too folks? And can I take a name for the room?"

Gabriel stepped up to the counter. He had some training navigating human financial transactions that was rarely put to use. Mostly, he knew he had a black plastic card with his name on that usually made all of these things run smoothly.

"Sure," he said stepping up and handing over the card, "Peacock."

The clerk took the card in relief at not having to look into the demon Prince's pockmarked face for any longer. 

"Oh. What an... _uncommon_ name."

They looked Gabe up and down and then processed the card payment in a hurried silence. It was returned with two new cards bearing the hotel's emblem. 

"Those are your keys. Room 642. That's up on the top floor. Elevator is just to your right. For marketing purposes, can I ask if your visit is for business or pleasure or..."

The clerk was cut off by both voices answering in unison.

Beelzebub stared at the clerk solely while Gabriel took care of the transaction. They made that clerk uncomfortable, plain and simple and, truly, it was a delight to them.

Beelzebub tapped the counter again and answered with Gabriel, " _Business_."

It almost startled them that the angel's answer was discordant with their own.

" _Pleasure?_ " The Archangel had replied; wanting to obscure the notion of heaven and hell secretly working together, even from his own mind. 

"I'll put you down as ' _other'._ " The clerk sensed the sparks of tension as one would sense a toaster being plunged into a bathtub.

"Breakfast is from 7.30 am. Room service is 24/7. If you need anything please call the front desk. Have a pleasant stay." They hurried through the last parts of their dialogue. Leaning on the well rehearsed flow of words as they thrust a receipt forward to Gabriel. 

"Come along... _sunshine_ ," the Archangel said through his teeth. Smiling. A mask. As he escaped into the elevator.

Beelzebub patted the table twice, messy fingerprints that would need a good scrubbing left on the precious, pristine countertop.

"I don't think they liked us," they said, standing directly next to him in the elevator, the two of them staring back out into the lobby. "You'll get me room service."

It was almost a request, but the idea of sharing it as an actual request seemed too vulnerable. And it was more fun to watch Gabriel squirm while they chewed obnoxiously on something messy, likely wet.

As the doors closed, Gabriel looked down at the rat of black hair; trying to work out exactly where Beelzebub got off. He was trying to contain his growing intrigue and excitement for wherever this _'other_ ' venture was taking them. Plastering over the cracks in his defenses as they bowed under the weight of growing fondness for the acerbic wit and chaotic malevolence of his companion. They found the door without issue and after some fumbling over the card keys managed to get inside. 

The room was nice, executive, business-class, _deluxe_ even. It was on the corner of the building top floor with huge windows along two sides. Wandering over to a window, Gabriel took in the view. The train station full of tiny ants, scurrying to and fro and the panorama of the river with its seven different bridges. 

"Well... this is _nice_."

Beelzebub watched Gabriel as they shed their ratty blazer. Looking down at everyone in the streets should be a familiar view for him, _shouldn't it? Maybe they'd enjoy it._ Instead of joining him or going about to admire other amenities afforded them in the room, Beelzebub went right over to the giant bed and hopped a little to flop atop it. Landing spread-eagled and sinking into the overly plush white comforter. Their face remained blank, staring up at the ceiling as they settled.

The fluff of sound turned the Archangel around.

Bee lying back on the bed was a peculiar sight. It was hard to read their particular mood at the best of times but Gabriel guessed they were perhaps comfortable. At least enough to take up such a relaxed position in his presence. He loosened the hands clasped behind his back and moved to remove his scarf and coat; realising he had grown uncomfortably warm around the collar.

He was going to maintain his distance a little longer. He had the time to be apprehensive. They were like two great beasts thrown into a cage together, slowly reading each other's temperament, body language, aroma; gauging whether it was ok to drop their guard. Bee had been the first to do so and Gabriel could not quite work out if that made them a fool or considerably more confident and dominant than he had given them credit.

" _So..._ " he said, taking a tentative step towards the bed. He had removed enough layers that the heat of the room had become less stifling and stood there in a grey, light, linen shirt. "What did you want to do?"

He stood over Bee, trying to read their response and placed one knee on the bed experimentally.

Beelzebub watched him, not breathing, as it was not truly required. The way he moved, slow and precise, as though waiting to pounce or be pounced. If they decided their heart was worth beating, it might start up. And faster than anticipated.

Instead, they remained still.

"We're wasting time," they answered, looking pointedly at Gabriel's throat. "We're wasting time until _zzzzomeone_ decides to call us back in to deliberate. And until _we_ make a...decision."

That was _sort've_ what they were doing. Or they were decompressing, at last, and there were tasks and activities that could help with that. In theory. 

"There's many ways to waste time. I'm told." Their deliberate coyness was frustrating. "You're telling me," he scoffed.

The indecent look on their face made his skin crawl. Not an unpleasant sensation. One word sparked a devious curl of his lips.

" _We_?"

He leaned over so he was looking down vertically at the curiosity sprawled in front of him. Whatever game Bee was playing, Gabe wanted in on the rules. Or at least the objective. He needed to know how to win.

" _We_ ," they insisted and finally reached up, tugging them close by the collar. "It's loud out there and I do not want to think about it. If you don't want me to remove your clothes and attack your flesh, I'll gladly see what disgusting food they have and we'll watch adverts until tomorrow. Think of it as a...mmm....a break."

The twist in his smile coiled a little tighter. He made a mental note of the first point scored in getting the demon prince to ask first.

**1 - 0**

Bringing his face close enough to taste the faint aroma of pesticides and preservatives he hushed his tone. The challenge he issued would not fail to elicit the desired reaction as he brought a hand to firmly grab the gnasher of hair.

"Do your _worst._ "

They did not bother trying to shake his hand off. It was easier to tug them down first, yanking in the collar until their mouths crashed hard, teeth biting into soft flesh with a bruising ease. Beelzebub wrapped their arm around him, legs following almost immediately after and did their best to hip-check him to fall over onto his back so they could straddle his hips.

**2 - 0**

Gabriel would be lying if he said he had not given himself into this. Did not want this. Did not ache for this. Beelzebub, he had never considered his first choice for a romantic or physical rendezvous; but they had their hooks in some tender part of him. Literally and figuratively. The archangel looked up at them from his back, and found himself wanting. 

**2 - 1**

Biting back and ignoring the tack of those open wounds, he kissed them with equal vigour. Holding their face close by the hair and swinging his other hand around to grasp at the flesh of their back, digging nails in desperation. He groaned as some residual static escaped him. The errant jolt was a nice shock to the system. _Literally._

Beezlebub squeezed their knees in against his sides, dragging their own nails quickly down the front of him, shredding that stupid pressed shirt. It was incidental but unavoidable that they nicked his pecs. Once at the bottom it was easy to grab the scraps and tear down the center. They sat up and held one hand under his jaw, wrapping his windpipe without squeezing. It was just an easy way to pin him and look at his chest. 

"I'm going to bite you," they explained. Sometimes it helped to voice what they planned.

The automatic reaction to struggle and pull that small tight gripped hand away welled up and instead found escape in grabbing Bee at the thigh. Fingers pressed down into the fabric of their trousers. An electric burn singed and smoldered through the weave. The sting on his chest was enough to make his muscles twitch and he braced himself for the teeth that were to come.

Beelzebub closed their eyes at the electric burn, squeezing a little tighter. No moan, but a pleasant curl of their toes in their loafers.

It reminded them of smashing free of Heaven, tumbling down, down, down, the golden flecks pulled clean from their formerly ethereal corporation. The welts of those long forgotten bursts still came to the surface when they didn't bother to hide them, as they wore them now. As though to say, I paid my prices for freedom.

They let go of his neck and slapped his cheek. 

"Control the lightning!"

And then they leaned over and pressed ugly stained teeth into his shoulder, sinking in with intent to bruise him, badly. No point yet to break skin.

**2 - 3**

Gabriel could spend from now until the end times (which were hopefully, very far away) trying to explain how much joy that slap gave him, but he would never be able to satisfactorily reason why.

" _Nngg_." He nodded obediently and then gave in to the sharp burn of teeth. _Leaving marks already? .... Who got a point for that?_

**3 - 3.5**

He brought a stealthy hand up to Beelzebub's chest and groped with the lightest of zaps. _Why not push this boundary?_ A thought he would likely regret.

One hand. They were able to get one hand between them, because the other was bracing their weight next to Gabriel on the bed. Beelzebub yanked it away and pinned his hand up by his head. They squeezed his wrist and wondered idly if they could break it. It would take considerable effort. _And then how was he supposed to hold them up against the wall later?_

No, just pinning it was good.

"Leather or rope?" they asked against his neck, dragging their teeth up towards his ear and biting up his earlobe, up the cartilage, to the top of the shell and really sinking their teeth in.

**4 - 3.5**

"You're giving me a _choice_?" The question dripped in sarcasm and shallow fried. "Bee, you're going soft on me."

"Isn't it fun? Having a choice for a change?" they teased back. "Don't think too hard, Gabriel. Rope. Or leather?"

**4 - 4.5**

"Oh, how you spoil me. _Leather_."

He used this brief exchange to give Bee a tongue bitten smile of appreciation.

Beelzebub leaned down, shoving his tongue back into his mouth with their own as they circled thick cuff of leather around his wrist. It seemed to already be linked up to a heavy chain shackled to the bedpost, the rattle of chain settling as the link secured itself in place.

Gabe tugged at the restraint, pleased at the fit and firmness of it. If he broke it, it would be easy enough to miracle up a new one. He considered offering up his free hand voluntarily before it was taken but then decided to use it to brush a static chill up Beelzebub's back, making their hair stand on end.

"That feels weird."

They knocked his hand away, sitting up to shake out their hair, little black flecks raining down behind them. When they had dispersed the static electricity they returned to add a mark to the other side. A pleasing symmetry they could ruin some other way.

**4 - 6.5**

Gabriel was a little annoyed Bee had not taken the bait. That was fine though. Meant he could keep that hand for further teasing. Looking down to admire the purpling watercolour blemishes on each shoulder he considered how he fancied keeping them there.

**4 - 7.5**

_Fuck it ,_ he thought, and let Bee have the victory. They would _win_ anyway and this meant he could focus on an entirely different game.

It was Gabriel's turn to grasp at the other's shirt collar, pull them close and pull down on their lower lip with a bite. A momentary distraction whilst he popped the first few buttons off of Bee's shirt.

 _I think I like kissing_ , they pondered. They did not, with practically _everyone_ else. And it was not that they had offered themselves up to test it much, yet. Gabriel had this way of biting back that felt like a proper challenge. And they relished in it.

They were not, however, blind to Gabriel beginning to pluck at their buttons. Beelzebub bit back, trying to make him bleed as they clawed down his bound arm and then up towards his cheek. Sitting back, they yanked his arm away, tossing it up so it was bound to match the other one. 

"You didn't break a button." They glanced down to make sure. "Are _you_ going soft on me?" 

Instead of waiting for an answer, Beelzebub rolled off them to the end of the bed to grab their ankles and pull to make sure their arms were tight. Gabriel winked playfully.

"You know how it is? Start soft and slowly turn the dial up. Gotta make sure I don't go too fast. _Nnnggghhfuc._ "

The pull unexpectedly realigned some of the Archangel's vertebrae with a series of clicks and pops. 

"Where are we going with this?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. "I don't want to spoil too much of the surprise, but... I'd also like to know if I'll survive this _waste of time_."

He was pretty sure he would but he also did not care if he _didn't_. Maybe a hellish discorporation would be good for him.

"You had too much slack," they answered simply. "I thought I'd help." They crawled back up and sat firmly on his hips, bouncing up and then down once more. "I would like to ride you. Will that be alright with you?"

Several different reactions swept across Gabriel's face in response. He threw his head back to consider what he wanted and hoped Bee would give him a moment. Stomach muscles tightened at the flush of desire it harboured. He was not against it. That much was obvious from the sudden swell of flesh in the corner of his legs. It had just been so long. Some four thousand years or so and the consequences... he shut that thought down.

He glanced up at the demon to check they were still there and then focused back on the ceiling. Letting Bee see the anxiety contained in him was reaffirming. They could take him without bothering to ask; hell, maybe that would have been easier for them both. But they _had_ asked and he appreciated that.

The panicked open mouthed look was replaced by a sneer as he turned back to the prince.

"... like the tiny jockey you are?" He amused himself, if no one else. His features softened and he bit his lip. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Beelzebub's face perhaps made a smile. More a pinched look like they had smelled something off. Their hands had rested on his stomach, feeling it jump and jolt with nerves. 

That had been the motivation. Nerves. Beelzebub was feeling, well, too much lately. Overwhelmed. Bottled up, _maybe_ . They wanted a release that was more than just flaying entire bodies of their skin or grinding the underlings between their heels. They needed _something,_ and they had found something in Gabriel. They wanted to chase it.

Their fingernails scraped down his abdomen. They would need to wriggle back to get to his pants. The belt was interesting, so they got to that first and slipped it out, folded it in half, and snapped it together. _Oh yezzzz,_ that pleased them. 

His feet were still untied, so Beezlebub just tossed the belt by his head before they popped up on all fours and crawled over him and hopped off the end, grabbed his pants, and yanked down again. When they were not removed as smoothly as they wanted, they just started tearing until Gabriel was finally left on uneven rags, perfectly exposed to the hotel lamplight.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck_

The Archangel's mind was stuck on a loop of anxious obscenities. Every heartbeat echoed through his head and blurred the corners of his vision. Bee _fucking_ terrified him and they knew it. 

It was not their threatening, menacing demeanor. Not that they were a powerful demon with questionable hygiene and an oral fixation. It's that they seemed to see right through him. Right through the swagger he tried to carry himself with. There was no magic to it - at least that he could sense. Just observation and intuition. And right now they were going to _see_ him in a different way. 

What remained of his lower garments did nothing to protect his modesty. Throbbing, erect and... At the base of the Archangel a jagged scar cut through where the word _swollen_ would be. He squirmed. No one had seen him like this. _Ever_.

Truly, in his way, he was beautiful. He had a tough form and all, and that could be considered handsome by some, but it was just him, tied up, the look of growing panic, the erection and scar. _He was so. Damn. Beautiful._

Beelzebub crawled up and gripped his thighs, dragging their tongue right up the scar and up to his navel, staying there to breathe him in. They could ask. _Why? Why would he do that to himself?_ But it was his decision, his journey, and now they were just witness to the aftermath and taking their needs as well.

Gabriel's chest rose and fell like waves at each sharp breath. There was a hiss and fizz as each one broke on his lips. The heat crawling up his body was unbearable. Senses he thought long dead, reanimated and macabre, gripped him; their cold lifeless hands fingering his flesh. He was too in shock to scream or make any kind of vocal sound. Gripping the chains above him brought solidity as the rest of him melted and evaporated. Some other agent controlled the lower half of him now and made his hips buck and toes curl.

As Bee's errant tongue paused at his middle he slumped, panting and breathless. Looking up, into the wide windows of this wicked creature's soul he chanced he saw delight but also a touch of concern. Maybe he imagined the last part but to ease their minds he nodded.

" _Don't stop_ ," he said quietly with a gasp.

 _Good._ Not that they were concerned about hurting Gabriel. If they were, it was a distant concern squashed down with everything else.

Beelzebub dipped their nose into his navel, dragging their teeth across his skin. It was so warm. Some tiny tender thing wanted to curl there and just rest. _Would that be a delight? Would it also be a delight to pierce his skin and render meat from bone and gnash and claw and–_

Beelzebub wormed their way down and returned to the base of their erection. They wanted on this. _Soon_. But not yet. 

Instead, they traced a ragged black fingernail across the scar and over the tender flesh there before they came in and latched on with their mouth, sucking hard and just barely beginning to bite.

Gabriel only slightly wished he still had a free hand to run through their ragged hair. Cup their face against his body appreciatively. Grip them and guide them to all the places that needed attention. 

As the Prince moved down, the squirming he felt inside returned. A strangled moan escaped him. The scar tissue was thin and delicate and Bee's teeth sharper than he would like... _and yet._ Gabriel, against his own interests, spread his thighs a little further and brought his calves to rest across the demon's shoulders.

They gladly moved down over the altered flesh, again inhaling when they were directly against the underside of his cock. The weight of his legs on their shoulders was oddly wonderful. They shifted to become firmly entrenched and licked down towards his ass.

"I should take _you_. Spear you for a bit," they said absently, pressing one of their fingers against his entrance, barely up to the first knuckle and then back out. "But. Not now. Not now." 

They shoved his legs off their shoulder and climbed back up to sit just above his knees, resting on his thighs, and slowly unzipped their own dusty trousers.

A shiver ran from the bottom to top of him as he considered this suggestion. Now was a good a time as any. They could decide entirely how to carve, stuff or eat him as long as they kept going.

He did not have time to fully toy with the idea of wrestling Beelzebub with his thighs before it was too late. Being straddled was quite something and his Effort twitched responsively. As he noticed the demon begin to remove their clothes he felt his cheeks glow and looked away. Then, tentatively, curiously back up at them.

"Can I... watch? Maybe, get a better view?"

Knowing the delightful phrase ' _shy bairns, get nowt_ ' he figured it was worth asking. Though he routinely thought the phrase was missing a second line like ' _for greedy bairns, lugs a clout'_.

> _((translation, Geordie/pitmatic/Scots slang. 'Children who do not ask, do not receive.'_
> 
> _And 'Children who ask too much have their ears clipped'.))_

They almost asked ‘ _why?_ ’ because it seemed a waste of time. But, perhaps, that was part of the ritual, as it were. 

Beelzebub popped up to their feet, standing over him, and grabbed at their own hips, rending the cloth in a slow, deliberate stripe down their body and tossing the mealy fabric to the sides of the mattress. 

They were wearing surprisingly bright red panties. It had been a secret delight to squirrel them away and, truth be told, they liked the feeling of silk when sitting on their throne. And, well, it was nice to tear those too. They split them and tossed the front half onto their face.

The Archangel stifled a chuckle at Bee's style of presentation. It was endearing. He had not fully prepared for them to acquiesce and wished he was still keeping score.

The crimson strip on his face was damp and fragrant and he perversely sniffed at them, with a bare toothed groan. The bouquet was earthen with a little tobacco or smoky quality. 

Of course now he could not see and was forced to take the shred of cloth into his mouth to manipulate it. On the lips they were like tart fruit with a little metallic, acidic hint. Gabriel sucked the moisture through them and tasted as would a sommelier. 

Smooth mouthfeel, light bodied with a spiced finish he assessed and continued to watch Bee thirstily.

Beelzebub had to hide a little snicker at the sight of him, lowering themselves back down to sit bare bottomed on his thighs. Their grubby hands slapped the top of his legs a few times to make them red. They had made themselves a vulva for the occasion, _at least for starters_. Beelzebub inched closer until they could rub themselves against his effort, dragging themselves up and down with even threatening to sink down on him.

"This feels good," they said simply, like it was a revelation about the weather.

Gabriel was glad of the rag to bite down on. Muffled sounds of longing erupted and contained in the silk. The Prince's soft round behind felt nice against his skin. The bindings which he enjoyed sadly restricted him from reaching out for a proper feel.

The heat straddling him made his loins truly ache for Bee to surround him completely. To be buried in their body. At the thought a dribble spouted from his eye. Clear, saline and a scent that signaled his arousal.

"Uh-huh? _Uhhhnnn._ " He nodded in agreement and cast the remnant of the underwear to the side. "You're a filthy fucking tease." He groaned some more as they glanced his shaft and crested over the glans unyielding. "If I had my hands sunshine, I'd..."

He waited for Beelzebub's hips to rise to the right angle and seizing the most opportune moment thrust up at an attempt to enter them. He might not be in control but that did not mean he did not enjoy the struggle.

"If you had your hands, this would be a different _game_ ," Beelzebub answered.

They stretched up and snatched the belt again, holding it taught in their hands, playing with it. They inched forward and remained hovering directly over him. 

"Show me what you want," they ordered, their legs spread and ready above him.

Gabriel thrust up again with a grunt. The tip of him chasing that pool of heat. It was cold and lonely and could not quite reach. His arse fell back into the duvet and the springs complained. He tried again. And again. And several more times before walking his feet back and arching up on his shoulders.Trembling, moist lips kissed him and parted enough for his bulb to slip inside. Unsure how long he could hold this position he, perhaps involuntarily, sent a tingle of static through the demon; hoping to persuade them to join him.

"Do you do this to all the damned souls you torture Bee? Or just the pretty ones?" he teased.

Beezlebub's back arched at the little shock, but they did not sit down.

"I relish the chance to watch you strain," they answered, quickly whipping the belt down just below their kneecaps after they recovered from the shock. "Will you keep doing that if I sit all the way?" 

Not that they were against it. Just _curious_.

They lowered a little and reached to grip him, ensuring they would sink fully onto him without any mishap.

He yelped at the hot sting of leather and strained and managed to hold position. Grinning, madly, "just wanted you to know it's an option," he purred.

Shuddering at the grip he braced for the relief he was hoping for. When it did not arrive as quickly as he would like, he gave in and mewled a soft, " _please_."

It was so sweet to hear him beg.

Beelzebub lowered themselves on his effort quickly, another hard sit that made their skin clap together. There was a little almost bruising feeling punched up into them from it, but they settled and just dropped their head back to relish the feeling.

The Archangel started a groan that ended in clenched teeth and mildly pained look. It must have been a while for them both. Bee's body was tight and he was achingly sensitive. He would prefer a little more lubrication but he was certain he could tease that from them. Ultimately, he was glad to see the demon Prince enthroned properly upon him. They were a fine spectacle. Regal and commanding and now with his own loyal obedience. He carried Bee's weight down to the bed with a soft springy moan and began to very gently fuck up into them.

Lubrication would have been a much better idea. The friction was unexpected, but it seemed, after a short period, something started to help in that regard, or the pain was tolerable to the pleasure of the activity. Except, greedy Gabriel who started to carefully thrust back up. Greedy, beautiful Gabriel.

It's not that they did not enjoy it. Quite the opposite. It was that they were not prepared and, to feel fully comfortable with this, it seemed necessary to take than to give. They gave. They gave over in little ways. But Beelzebub still had something coiling around their spine that said this is dangerous and you will be hurt or worse by this if you are not careful.

Their trepidation came out with a sneer and another strike with the belt, almost perfectly aligned to the first strike.

Watching their rider intently, Gabe was pleased to see their features relaxed and body slacken to accommodate him. He smiled as his movements eased and he could slide without tooth through his master. A need to hold and kiss the small demon welled in him. Only natural, the thought quelled the complicated writhe in his chest. He was not going to let that seed of affection for his adversary germinate. It had been planted quite well though. 

A sudden sting to his legs pulled his thoughts back to task and he moved from a walk to a quicker, smoother ambling pace. He wanted that best in show ribbon for dressage. It seemed to spurn Gabriel to move harder and Beelzebub dropped the belt to lean forward and grab his pecs, chipping away at his skin with their fingernails. 

"Stop moving," they muttered, and closed their eyes, giving in for a moment. They attempted to grind down with their hips to still him. Slowing to a halt, Gabriel complied.

" _Fssss._ Usually, it's a strike to speed up, dear."

Pausing to look up at Bee, he was annoyed he had misread the signal. An instinct to make sure they were all right overrode any pride or grievance in him.

He lowered his voice.

"Are you OK up there? Talk to me," he said between breaths.

"You are big," Beelzebub answered simply, loosening their grip on Gabriel's chest, even wiping at the red stripes. "I am small. Give me a moment."

They leaned down and even kissed the marks with their chapped lips. It was not an apology for scratching him because they didn't understand the rules. At least, it was not a verbal apology. 

"You feel good," they said to his chest. And then sat up again. "Try moving again."

"Oh. "

Gabriel found himself blushing. Then grinning. Then laughing perhaps a little too heartily.

"Ha. Yeahhhh," this was an unexpected complaint but only because it had been so long since he had heard it. "I'll go slow. Tell me what you need, Bee." 

His neck bent awkwardly to watch the ragged demon pressed over on him. Those light kisses melted over his chest and bled into where he guessed his heart to be. Gently rocking his hips, he tried to change settings from stallion to something closer to massage chair. That dial needed to be turned very slowly it seemed.

Though they were certain they could take going hard and fast very quickly, drawing it out had it's rewards. It was a sweeter nectar. Syrupy, in fact. Sticky, wet, sugar-spun....

Their mind was wandering. They arched back, giving a new angle to be penetrated, which actually felt sort've fantastic too and would make them moan if they weren't busy trying to grab the belt again. They held it and sat up, rolling their hips a little in a circle to go at odds with Gabriel's movements. 

"Striking means faster?" They wanted to make certain their communication was appropriate.

"Yes. Ha... Hit me to go faster. It's a shame I don't have reins.... Hmmm." Closing his eyes and concentrating he conjured a rather smart set of nipple clamps with a chain and leather strap handle. They sat in the middle of his chest tied with a red satin bow. A little gift for the little demon. "Maybe these will help. If you attach them, give them a tug to slow me down."

 _Maybe I'm a bit too into this horse and rider imagery_ he thought. _Maybe I need a bit_. He waited to see how Beelzebub would react to his offering.

The clamps gleamed and looked nice enough just resting on his chest. Beelzebub stopped rolling their hips and took them, undoing the red ribbon. They held them up to their chest first, still hidden beneath their buttoned shirt and vest. 

"They have teeth," they mused, opening and closing the little clamps.

They grinned as they leaned in again and attached them, draping the chain down across Gabriel's chest and then covering his sternum with their hand.

" _They do_?" Gabriel strained to see and noticed Beelzebub's addition to his gift. "Of course."

Gabriel hissed as they nipped his pink perked flesh. He should have concentrated more on the design. Thankfully finding the gauge and shape of them to his liking he smiled up at Bee. For now he was going to omit the knowledge of how to adjust and specifically tighten them. Maybe he could show them later on their own body. Now that was a thought. He was in little rush to finish undressing the demon - he wanted to savor their unwrapping. Puffing out his chest and taking a deep breath Gabriel relaxed himself and sent his chi out across his body. He could remain firm and strong like this without tension.

"Ready when you are, _brat_ ," he flirted.

" _Brat_?" they repeated. "Smug Angel." They tugged on the chain just to test the strength of them. They liked the look of Gabriel's skin being pulled by the clamps. Beelzebub leaned back and rubbed the red marks on his thighs. "Go. I want you to move again."

They rolled their hips again to get back to what they had started and stopped so many times.

Gabriel gave an equine chirp and began to slowly pace for his rider. They were rocked gently in his saddle as he rolled below them. Bee looked... _Well_. They just looked perfect holding his rein. They had him and he was quite pleased about it. They had that distant self-entitled air of royalty and surveyed him as a subject, to be trodden on, he imagined. They were _deluxe_.

They wanted to strike him again. It was an easy, visceral response, but if they were not careful, they would just strike the angel in the same place again and again, with the practiced aim of someone who used a barbed whip to rend flesh from bone. And tugging the clamps meant to slow down, per the rules. 

But they did like this fun new enthusiasm he brought, so they gripped his hips and started to lift themselves up a little faster, coming down when he thrust up and closing their eyes again to enjoy the sensation of the ride.

 _Better_ , he thought. It was good to see them having a good time. The Archangel closed over his eyes and kept his rhythm steady. It was good to have a good time, himself. He mused, if this was meant to be ' _wasting time_ ' together, he could not wait to see what it would be like if they _embraced_ it. The feeling of physically connecting like this overwhelmed him. He felt so vulnerable but also incredibly safe. _Safe? Huh._ Slowly, needily, he was relaxing into this unlikely companionship and all the sensations and emotions that came with it. 

Out of a clearing sky fell a name.

 _Betenos_.

That had been _her_ name. He felt his face fall at an old and painful memory. Trying to correct that expression made him panic and look to Bee, smiling smugly. Hoping they had not seen. Their eyes were still closed in meditation on the experience. Quietly, he tried to strangle the desire to kiss Beelzebub tenderly and hold them in his arms like they were the only two beings in creation. There was a lot he could feel right now. Just not that. Not here.

He bucked with a tentative force. Not to dismount them. Just needed the stimulation, to shake the creeping shadows from his mind. The belt, the chain, anything to keep it at bay. To keep him present.

" _Please, Bee_ ," he whispered.

Beelzebub opened their eyes when he bucked up again, falling forward. They gripped the chain and tugged.

"Why? What?" they snapped, looking down and studying them. Something changed in their fun little game. They squeezed their thighs together. " _What?_ "

 _Ugh_. He wanted his hands.

"C'mere," he grunted and leaned forward. Crossing his legs he brought his hips up, pushing Bee towards himself and into a kiss.Their lips locked tightly into his, which sighed with relief. Bringing his head around to the demon's ear, he wanted to whisper, he wanted to tell them so much. _Not now._

 _What could he say?_ He searched for the words; something honest, something kind, something that would bring them closer but would not kill the moment.

"It's just... been a long time. I needed this... _Thank You_."

He pecked their cheek and moved his hips back, gazing up at them with adoration. His gyration continued, unbroken. _Mmmm._ It felt good to be here and he really was grateful for it.

Being tossed forward to kiss him–and they did, what a surprise–they had to again brace their hands on the mattress. They meant to grab his chain and tug because he was moving erratically and they did not expect it. But, as much as they were loath to admit it, they liked the kissing.

It had been a long time. And they were also glad to be there. Even the look on his face made something sweet melt inside them.

Beelzebub sat back and slapped his face again, trying to remove that soft look. Trying to keep the prickly barriers of barbed wire intact around their rotted heart. But they just folded in half to stop looking at him and stayed cuddled against his chest while they moved with him, squeezing now and again, trying now match their rhythm.

The slap was good. The slap was what he needed.

He chuckled. It was not a nervous laugh either. Emotions are complicated at the best of times. When you are a six thousand year old immortal being in the midst of an existential crisis, reminded of a traumatic episode whilst being physically intimate with your sworn enemy and enjoying every second of it; emotions become a complex, near infinite, fractal. That is how he managed to remain oblivious of the slow building crush. 

"I'm sure you can hit me harder than that." His tone was gentle, playful but the challenge was real.

They looked so helpless clung to him. It was hard to believe this was really Beelzebub. They seemed suddenly very small and fragile. He did not know what to do or say to comfort them so he shut up and kept moving. Trying to make a predictable pattern with his thrusts that the demon could follow. _Half, half, whole_ or whatever the equivalent was for their difference in body size.

A challenge from an Archangel should be met. 

Beelzebub sat back up, which sank Gabriel into them fully and almost made their eyes flutter shut. They gripped their own thigh as a reminder to stop showing off how stupidly soft this could make them and, in the same breadth, struck them again across the opposite cheek. Then a third time.

Then, instead of a fourth, which would finally make their palms start to prickle and sting, they leaned forward and tore at the leather straps on his wrists and freed them, yanking his likely stiff arms up and planting them firmly on their hips.

"Faster," they whispered. "Harder." 

Get them back on track. That was the goal. They were sliding wetly against him now and they needed that damn release or they were going to do something truly soft and start moaning and saying gentle things to him. Happy to oblige, he gripped Bee tightly and ran his thumbs over their iliac ridge. He rolled their hips, pressing down onto himself and built in momentum a quick and steady rut.

Now he had his hands back he gave them up to instinct. Keeping one arm locked on Bee's hip he used the other to bend them over himself into that space on his chest that they kept returning to. Bee seemed to like it their and honestly so did he. If they were pressed here neither could see whatever expressions they needed to make. That seemed preferable. He kissed the top of Bee's head and rested his chin on them. Like this they could just fuck. It did not need to be more complicated than that.

It felt strangely wonderful to be held. They were expecting restriction and a violent need to escape, but naturally curling up against their chest deemed itself appropriate and even appreciated. They still wrapped their hands around the chain between the nipple clamps. It was good to have an anchor point.

And the pressure of their hands. Driving up and down. Beelzebub bit onto one of their lapels and squeezed their eyes tight as they felt that delicious build, that tingling heat as they got closer to the edge of a release they had been trying to race towards. Instead of relenting, now it became a challenge to hold onto that building feeling and to see if they could pull one out of Gabriel first. A new challenge to the invisible scoreboard.

Which would be a filthier sin, a greater victory, honestly? To make this angel come for them or to come again and again on him and let him know he did this to them?

Gabriel was relieved that Bee had not tried to fight this. It felt good to hold them. The biting they expected and it spurred them to keep going. He felt them tensing internally and he fucked harder and deeper in response.

They were close and he probably was too. He really could not tell. He was unsure how to feel about this. It was good but he was anxious. Too anxious to think about himself. Maybe Bee was anxious too. Maybe a little encouragement would help them both. With one arm wrapped around Bee he pressed and squeezed them prone against him, driving into their heat with a muted grunt.

"Cum for me, Bee. Please. _Please_ , I need you to..." this had been a slightly exaggerated, slightly pornographic way to go about things but it worked... _On himself._

A long moan and a warm pool shot out of him as he trembled into the demon.

_He asked so nicely. How were they to deny him?_

And they had won. 

Beelzebub sank with a warm moan, almost blushing at feeling him unload and arched their back as they came after him. It felt shockingly good to have a release, even with a twist of shame, not at taking this archangel or for enjoying sex but because they enjoyed him. That scattered away as they sank their fingernails into his back and pulled him tight.

Pleasantly pulsating he pressed his penis in aching, tender thrusts as he coiled up to Bee, protectively. He returned the sting of nails in his back with a firm embrace as they both rode out the climax. Panting, breathless, it felt like he had been hit in the gut with a cannonball and he clung to the demon as he sank back onto the bed. Heartbeat in his mouth and groin and neck and hands and everywhere blood could flow. Unsure how to progress from here, he lay there in silence, holding Bee. Gabe hoped they would stay where they were. For now.

He wondered if there was a bath.


	2. Pteregotomy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends.  
> Be aware of new tags.  
> No smut. All angst and hurt and comfort.  
> \- V
> 
> Hello hello! Definitely heed those tags but know I love these two so much. And always thank you for reading! And love writing these tragic idiots in love with V so, so much.  
> -Waldos

Beelzebub betrayed themselves with a short " _oof_ " when Gabe dragged them down. They almost said something, but they were trembling in the afterglow and decided this was their favorite spot anyways, Gabe had just brought them there sooner.

"Messy," they whispered, and squeezed internally on him, which had a doubling effect on themselves, making them shiver again.

"Tends to be," he replied followed by, " _agk_."

He contracted some muscle group around his pubic bone and his Effort flexed inside in response.

Gabe let his consciousness wander to the bathroom to assess the situation. He was fully glad he could work miracles on the plumbing in here. Installing a large sumptuous tiled bath, the kind big enough for them to sit, cuddling or scowling at arms length in and set it to run.

Gabriel wanted a bath and Beelzebub needed one.

"Well, we can get cleaned up once that bath has run."

Beelzebub hissed, enjoying his extra twitch. It was soured by the idea of a bath. "Are you trying to kill me?"

Concentrating, he flexed again with a grin.

"Bee, please." 

It went without saying if they were going to destroy each other today they would have already done it. 

"You know I need you around in case the Great War breaks out. I need my rival for the final showdown. You know. Make quippy one liners at me and swoon over my golden armour."

He grinned. "Plus I like the idea we can stab each other through the heart and die tragically in each others arms. Feels suitably dramatic."

"I'm going to rub dung on your armor. The blind demon army will leave you alone when you smell like a piece of shit."

They lifted almost all the way off and then sat hard, as though to reprimand him for the delicious twitches. 

"You don't...make it holy water? By bathing in it?" they asked carefully, trying not to sound as worried as they felt.

Gabriel laughed and then winced and then looked at the demon nervously.

"That's not how it's conventionally made but... Now that you ask, I actually have no idea... I don't think so? You mean like some kind of divine tea infusion?"

"I don't know! I've never bathed!" And they slapped his chest. "With an angel before."

They _couldn't_ just dip their toe in and make sure the water _wasn't_ a little too holy for their liking. _Didn't_ work too well for any demon that came in contact.

Gabriel moved close to Bee's ear and whispered, "I think if you can take a _load_ from me without any ill effect, it's probably safe to get in the bath."

They exchanged a look that perfectly communicated ' _Well fuck... should we have thought about protection?_ '

Beezlebub looked down at him and then scrambled off rolling to their side next to him and waiting to see if the pleasant feeling would shift to a burn, an acid that ate them from the inside out.

Gabriel could definitely not handle watching them spontaneously oxidise right now. At heart he was gentle and caring and wanted to make sure Bee was OK. Taking to a better position just off the bed he offered to take a look.

"May I...?"

They were still pouting, but looked down at him. They spread their legs just before they realized how vulnerable that actually made them.

"It looks OK from here."

The Archangel gently parted their lips and blushed at the mess of ejaculate and quim spread across their body.

It looked normal, fine and healthy. Maybe a touch red in places.

"Just gonna... _Erm_... Clean up a bit. So I can see."

It was not entirely a lie.

He avoided moving too suddenly and placed his face close to breathe them in. He had already sampled their flavour earlier but this was better. This was fresh.

Trying not to be too greedy about it he began to gently lap at the spill of fluids around Bee's delicate folds. It was even sweeter than he hoped. The saccharine taste melted in his mouth. He pressed his tongue, tentative, teasing, trusting, to their opening and tasted. Scooping the viscous fluid into his mouth, he swallowed before probing a little deeper.

Sitting back to look at the mouth he had just kissed and then up to Bee.

"Seems fine," he said with a red, wet, face.

"Bath?"

He shut the taps off with a wave of his hand.

Bee had wanted to close their legs around his head with the force to crush it. 

_What was that? What was that?_ They felt tingly and wanting and even bucked their hips up a little to chase after his stupid beautiful mouth.

"Bath. If you. Think itzzzz...." Beelzebub twitched their mouth against the nervous buzz. "Safe," they finished firmly.

Gabriel understood the apprehension.

Asking Bee to bathe with him was like a shark inviting you for a swim.

He was certain bathing together would be safe. If the vast sharing of their bodily fluids thus far had not dissolved them, then steeping in a shared pool of water for a few hours should be fine.

With a few words and the click of his fingers he could make it holy water though. Destroying every remaining molecule of Beelzebub's body, mind and soul. There would be no coming back from that.

Realising the position of power he had made him shudder. 

"Hmmm... What would make you feel safe?" He stood and picked Bee up into his strong arms and cradled them. 

"I can let you bathe in private if you want. Maybe get you something disgusting from room service. Can set the room on fire too... Collateral and all?"

Beelzebub snickered at the idea of the room being set on fire but gripped their arms over their chest and looked down. They would need to finish getting undressed.

"You go first," they answered. "I'll see how it looks with you in it and maybe...maybe join you."

"Okay. Deal."

He gave the demon a kiss on the forehead and threw them back on the bed playfully.

Noting the defensive way they embraced their shirt he added. 

"You can keep it on if it helps," and shrugged.

Stepping into the bathroom he realised he may have overdone it by filling the entirety of the space with tub.

He condensed it a little, making room for a separate shower and added some additional running fountains to the side of the bath.

Rinsing himself down he realised how cut, bruised and filthy he was. Parts of him stung that had no right to. Seeing his shoulders and pecs in the mirror made him go pink. Although that might be the hot water. Once he had taken the thick of the grime off he stepped into the steamy pool and made himself comfortable.

Beelzebub groaned from the bed and rolled around a little while they were alone, smashing their face into the bedding and curling up with little overstimulated twitches. Then they flopped back out and waited.

And waited.

And waited a little longer before they picked themselves up and walked calmly into the bathroom. 

It was bright and hot and steamy in here. They went right up to the huge bathtub and sank down to their knees beside Gabriel's head. They held out a hand next to them and waited again.

Gabriel looked up, taking their hand and shaking it with a bemused grin.

"Yeah?"

He flipped around to look at them. 

"Do you want to get in?"

Bee pulled their hand back quickly and looked at it, at the shiny drops of water. They sniffed their hand and finally inched closer. "Yes. I want to sit in your lap again."

Gabriel gulped and possibly whined at the thought.

He managed to position himself to lift the small, soft demon up and bring them down into the bath with him.

He immediately regretted not rinsing them first, as ash and grit and the carapaces of insects floated by and a slightly black-brown tint bled into the water.

Holding Bee at the surface on their back, still partially clothed, he let them acclimatise to this alien environment.

Biting back snarky remarks about their cleanliness he gently eased their hair into the water.

"I imagine their isn't much call for baths down there, huh?"

"Not unless they're magma or acid or the occasional holy water," they said, easing into the water. It was hot. But a nice hot.

The accumulation of grime that was caked on like a second skin started to loosen and shed. They even let their boils and sores heal up as they relaxed against him. 

"This is nicer. But if you feel yourself about to sneeze and bless the water, give us a kiss goodbye before I'm destroyed."

Watching intently, Gabriel was not surprised to see the amount of dirt washed away. What struck him was the disappearance of their many pustules, abscesses and other growths.

He was rather curious as to why they had gone. If it was for his sake he would rather have them back. They were part of Bee and as much as they could be a ' _shitty' lil, spoiled princling brat_ ' - he did not want to change them or make them self conscious.

Gabriel could appreciate wearing old scars, pock marks, imperfections with pride. They reminded you who you were, where you came from and the choices you made along the way.

For public perceptions, the Archangel kept his scars under his clothes.

"Bee?!"

He laughed. Their little joke was like a slap across the face from earlier. It was dark and cruel and mercilessly filled with an affection he craved.

Running a hand through their hair and pulling them towards him he kissed a spot on their cheek where a large boil had sat.

"I can remove my nose if that is a concern of yours. I'll even let you help."

"Rusty blade?" They smiled, pressing flat against him before they brought their knees up to his sides. "Serrated edge?" 

And then they pecked his nose before they sat up and looked at his hair, scrubbing it into a mess and dripping in their wet, heavy, shirt.

Gabriel shuddered and only slightly regretted the suggestion. They seemed to be feeling more comfortable with all of this.

"Well, you are the expert here. What would you recommend?" he teased.

Slyly reaching to the side he grabbed a bottle of all in one shampoo, conditioner and body lotion. It was toxic pink and stunk of candy. Something they might approve of.

"Surgical steel," they whispered and rested their cheek to his chest to give him better access to wash their hair.

He shook his head in disbelief of Bee, of his chest, of the whole situation. This is not a scenario he had ever prepared himself for. As he felt the gears of anxiety begin to turn he quickly focused on what he was about to do with his hands. He very quickly developed a healthy detachment from and union with reality. 

Squeezing a dollop of the product into his palms, he massaged it through the demon's hair.

"Where do you start to cut? Top? Bottom? Or do you split it down the middle?"

Kneading their scalp he smiled down at them.

They moaned finally as he started to wash them, squishing their hands in closer to their own chest and resting them on his ribs. 

"One cut to the very top, between the eyes, down the middle...like a T." They wriggled and clamped their knees around his hips. "Peel apart and lift upwards. Should do the trick."

"Hmmm... Would it stop me sneezing though?"

The lathering mass was bringing all kinds of strange colours and textures out of their hair. Thick matted tresses, back combed clusters caked in mud, oil, grease, scabs, spider casts and more. Gabriel wondered if there would be a discarded bicycle hidden among their locks. Would he need a rope to pull it out?

He sat them up more.

"I'm going to rinse this rather than put your hair back in this water.... Then I'm going to change the water."

He grabbed a shower head that poked from the side of the bath and worked it through Bee's black tangles.

"No, scrub some more," they whined, patting their sides. It was less ticklish poking and more raking and digging. "I liked the scrubbing. What's that? What's it going to do? Will it hurt? Why do you need it?"

"Hey. Hey. It's OK. I'm just running some clean water through your hair and then I'll scrub more, yeah?"

He bent over and kissed them.

He was unsure if they were really distressed or playing with him but decided to err towards sincerity.

"This just sprays clean water."

He demonstrated it by running it over his hand then his own face.

They watched and took the spray from his hand to spray directly into their face, eyes opened, until they started spluttering and choking, unflinching. 

The Archangel could only watch and sigh.

He pulled some invisible plug and watched the water and gunge drain away. It was thicker in consistency than it really ought to be and unusual purple-brown shade.

Once it had cleared, he returned the unseen plug and the bath began to refill via the continuous flow of the steamy fountains.

"You're cute."

"Shut it," they answered and turned the spray on him instead. 

Watching his hair get plastered down was, even on a second viewing, very funny. Beelzebub dropped the spray and sat back against the tub, draping their arms over the edge to continue watching him.

Gabriel composed himself.

He was unsure why he so strongly wanted to finish washing their hair 'properly' but he did and it bothered him.

Considering sulking himself, he instead bowed his head under the water and moved towards Bee. His nose found their belly first and he kissed it through the shirt.

As he did not need to breathe he decided to stay here a while as his fluster of annoyance cooled.

He may have used this as an opportunity to observe the demon's body from up close as well.

Beelzebub tensed, resting their hand in the waving grove of his graying hair. They almost tugged him, assuming him to be teasing them. But he just seemed to be staying there. 

He could make himself useful and go back between their legs; that had been a treat. But, they supposed they did not need to push him further. 

Instead, they returned the gesture and brushed down through his hair, like they were washing it. Their arms were heavy and restricted from the sopping wet button-down and the thin ribbon they kept tied in an uneven knot just at their throat.

Bee scooted their knees to shove him back a little so they could push themselves up to a standing position. They had already gotten rid of the blazer first back in the bedroom, so they loosened the ribbon with some cursing and tugging and eventually just splitting it and letting it slap the tiles floor without ceremony. It was just the white button-down left. Their last little piece of armor. Bee covered their chest and waited for Gabriel to surface.

Gabriel poked out of the bath, wiping water from his eyes to look at them a little confused. He had, had them right there, washing their hair and joking about how best to remove his nose and now what?

Sitting back in the big square tub he continued to watch them.

"What?"

They pouted and looked over their shoulders, their arms still firmly crossed.

"I want to remove my shirt," they grumbled.

"I'm not stopping you."

They continued grumbling, now just nonsense sounds and little protesting twitches for a jacket that was no longer there.

They were going to....

... _Satan's right ass-cheek_ , they were going to ask for....

"Help me," they finally muttered, still refusing to look at him.

Gabriel stood and crossed the bath to them. Taking the shirt where he had begun to unbutton it earlier he ripped it all the way open with frustration. Watching their face for any change in demeanour, he pushed the collar over their shoulders and taking the cuff and arm of each sleeve, removed them one at a time then threw the shirt to the floor.

Standing in silence, he drew himself up in height and width.

_Oh good, he ripped it._ It gave no time to be slow and lingering. Beelzebub swallowed and immediately closed in where they liked best against his chest. 

Of course there was more grime and gross to be washed away. Of course the welts burned off from the Fall and their neat little golden angel marks striped down their arms and back, where the uneven troughs of red skin spidered across their shoulder blades. But Gabriel had beautiful battle scars too. 

They just felt small. They felt exposed and they wanted Gabriel to have a chance to wrap up that exposed body because it meant they were wanted. Desired, even, hell. One could say lov-

Well. Maybe not that last one.

"Wash me," they growled with their mouth smashed against his skin. "Wash me!" And they found one of his pecs, trapped a hunk of skin between their teeth.

Gabriel took a breath. That small face pressed into his chest was hurting. It was obvious. He had no idea how or why and he was not going to pry right now but he was going to try to soothe over the pain.

Embracing the small creature and taking them back down into the water, he began to gently massage their neck and shoulders, carefully working the soap in as he went.

Kissing their features softly he whispered "I've got you," working both hands down their back.

That was the good part. Maybe they should not even be enjoying it, but to hell with what anyone else thought, they melted. And watching some of the crud that came off of them into the refreshed water, that could be seen as literal.

Beelzebub released Gabriel's pec from their mouth and worked their hands up to rest on his shoulders, absently kneading the tough muscle. They felt unburdened. Lighter. Free.

"How would you remove a nose?" They asked with no change in the inflection of their voice.

"Like this," he placed his hand over it, screwed into a fist and when he pulled away his nose had gone. Just a flat expanse of skin.

" _Smeems mow congbveniemt van a knive_."

Then put it back.

Beelzebub immediately reached up and poked their nose, truly innocent to the simple transformation. 

"Did that hurt?" they asked with a fond smile.

"Just tingles. I don't know. I think it's different if you do it to yourself versus someone else. It's about anticipation as much as anything."

His hands paused at their lower back and he was bent over them to reach.

Thick digits thumbed over them, held them, touched their skin, their marks and scars and everything, unflinching.

They felt enveloped and dipped their head down towards the water to give him a better angle to reach. Some spots made their tongue feel fluttery from a tickle that seemed to zap their whole body, a completely different experience than his controlled electrocutions. 

They grinned at the water, the swirls of grease and fewer dead bugs this time, and pressed their face against it, diving down, and nuzzling his stomach like he had done with them.

Gabriel let them explore as he continued to work the grime from their skin and undo the knots of tension he felt throughout their body.

Looking down he saw the burns and scars and scorch marks and felt a pang of guilt crawl through him. The condemnation of their fellows was something he had tried to understand over the millenia. At one point it had made sense to him; even until recently he had a better grasp on it. Right now, standing over Beelzebub, mapping and tracing their back; it just seemed pointlessly cruel and he regretted his part in it... a regret that had chased and finally caught up to him.

Bending, he kissed the spot between their shoulders: between where their wings had been. The same thick, heavy tiredness weighed on him.

He knew full well he should have fallen too.

With a sigh he dispelled the sadness in his eyes and continued. 

Scooping Bee into his arms and resting them on his lap he started to wash their front. Shoulders, neck, collar and paused before exploring further.

"Can I wash your chest?"

They had been too focused on Gabriel's navel to get to any fun, like teasing his sleepy-looking cock under the water, which seemed vaguely devious and fun. Also having their back rubbed made them want to unspool from their skin and purr. It should be alarming how relaxing it was, but, for some silly reason, the demon trusted the archangel.

Which was probably why they went to his lap like a kitten and closed their eyes to let him continue washing them.

They had a nice collection of honeycomb-like welts that spread over their chest. At one point they had been honeycomb shaped rings of gold, a pretty display that dazzled through sheer white fabric while they tended to their duties. If they had been vain–and, right at the end when they were discussing with Lucifer, they had certainly learned to be–they had thought they were the prettiest marks.

"Then can I wash yourzzzz?" they asked with a little smile, their eyes still shut and one of their black stained fingertips idly grazing Gabriel's arm.

He had not really noticed the pattern until now. As he gently bathed them, careful not to irritate these ancient unhealed injuries, his eyes grew wide in realisation.

He remembered them. Beelzebub. How they were before the fall. The golden inlay of their skin now ripped and burned and torn from their flesh. A knot in his stomach tightened.

He remembered the impassioned plea that shining angel had made before they were cast out.

Of course.

Fate was cruel and God the crueller for writing it. Of course the demon he held now, with tender, aching care, had been the angel who's speech had given him cause to doubt all this time.

This was something to address at another occasion. Right now he could only suppress the thought and make a mental note to mull over how to start that conversation.

Once he was satisfied that Bee was likely as clean as they would get without the assistance of industrial spirits, a lousing comb and a course of worming tablets: he kissed them and laid back, handing them the soap.

"Be my guest."

They felt soupy for a moment, laying in the bath. But Gabriel was reclining for them and they pushed themselves up, immediately straddling him and squeezing their legs so they wouldn't slide down.

It took a moment to find the soaps. They squeezed out a dollop directly onto his chest, making a funny little pattern, and tossed the bottle, which bobbed in the water. 

The first instinct was to claw and their hands were poised to do so just before they touched skin. A moment later they smoothed out their hands and began to smear the fruity-smelling goop around, mimicking what he had done to find knots of muscle that needed attention and to work them out.

He gave them a tired smile. 

"That's nice, keep it up."

He closed his eyes over and sunk further into the bath so his face was under the water. Placing his hands on their knees and giving them a reassuring squeeze he let himself melt into their hands.

It seemed they were good at something. Something that was not general torture and malaise and foment. 

They even smiled. 

Gabriel did look beautiful all spread out beneath them. Their kneading turned into exploratory touches and traces, memorising each scar and line. The different states of his body. The thrum of his ethereal form just beyond this plain and how they wanted to sink into it like a starry pool of violent lightning.

The Archangel was doing his very best to keep some terminally repressed emotions contained and locked away. 

He hoped the warm soapy water covering his face could help him keep the anguish at bay and disguise any sobs that tried to escape him.

Handling Bees thighs, carefully grounded him. He let his hands wander up to their hips and back down as they lathered his chest.

Fingering back up he gripped their waist and pulled Bee towards him feeling a warm swell run from his stomach to his loins. 

His thumbs dug into the furrow of their thighs and his abdomen tightened as he motioned to sit up.

Beelzebub frowned, reaching up to hold them around his shoulders. 

"I'm washing now," they whined, even if all the suds had already been cleared away from the water. "Lay down. What are you doing?"

Feeling the slight resistance from the demon, he hesitated and instead pulled them down under the water to kiss there instead.

They bit his lip to show they were not happy about fast movements before they settled and kissed him back. They grabbed his water-logged hair and pulled, just to make him pull his neck back so they could bite at his jugular, three uneven bruises.

Gabriel knew he was being greedy. He knew and he cared - but not quite enough to stop himself right now. Letting Bee bite and mark him up more was exquisite but he was chasing for that connected feeling; that they could both understand each other. That they did not need to be scared. That he did not need to be scared.

He kissed the demon prince again more forcefully, teeth clashing, nibbling, biting. Maybe he should mark them instead. 

Leaning into their collar he bit softly and sucked a trio of perfectly circular bruises into their pale skin. He wanted them to take his anxieties and rend them from his corporeal flesh. To comfort him in a way he did not know how to.

He bit them harder now and sat upright laying his head over Beelzebub's shoulder and just held them in the cloud of hot water vapour.

"Your bruises are sweet," they said, cradling his head. "Soft things," they elaborated, confused but still petting up to his hair and down his back.

He was a confusing thing. A wanting thing. They could not say, but they felt something and wanted, _ wanted, wanted _ to tear it clean from his flesh. 

Instead, they pet down his shoulder blades and pressed neatly between the slightly hard flesh where his wings should be, a fantastic knot building there.

" _ Ugh _ . You're a sweet soft thing."

It was as exasperated as it was teasing a comment. He remained still. Holding. Letting Bee caress him. 

He confused himself enough and what he wanted was something he did not have the capacity to imagine. To be rid of his guilt, fear, shame. Bee could not torture those things out of him, as much as he wanted it but they made him feel less alone.

The knot in his back was sore and aching and the light pressure reminded him of it. A hissed intake of breath let Bee know it stung there.

"You don't stretch these much, do you?"

They dug their fingers in a little more, moving around the hard knot, practically hanging over their shoulder. 

"I bet they're ugly, is that why?"

Biting his lip he grabbed and pressed his fingers into Beelzebubs soft, warm, now cleaner form and groaned a little in pain.

He felt those limbs as though they were folded under his actual skin. Straining for their own release but confined in this corporation. 

"No. And no."

His wings were beautiful by his own consideration. They just had a tendency to unnerve people, demons, other angels. Like the scars, he kept them to himself and took care to preen them in privacy.

"Did you want to see?"

That would probably keep them entertained for a while as he sorted his head out.

"Yes. Show me." 

They liked Gabriel squeezing them. It meant they were doing something to him and he needed to hold on to feel... _ safe? Grounded? _ But they were needed, whatever the reason, and it made them smile. 

They smoothed their hands out before they started turning their thumb in harder, running along the bones.

Looking around the room to gauge if it was big enough he stood slowly, lifting Bee with him. They immediately scrambled up to dangle over his shoulder to watch whatever manifested there.   
  


Gabriel had wanted to take them to the other room, where it was bigger and dryer but Bee kept digging. Those thumbs were punishingly strong and before he could stop them, they hit a very sensitive nerve and a plume of colour erupted from his back. 

Gabriel pulled Bee under him protectively as they unfurled as if sprung. They were gold, brown, red, purple, blue, green, iridescent and shimmering with eyes. So many eyes. Bright blue and gold eyes staring in every direction. They were enormous. It was hard to believe there were only two of them. They reached the wall and ceiling and seemed to try and keep going. The eyes trained down Gabriel's back and swivelled to look at Bee.

They barely caught the unfurling before Gabriel brought them close to,  _ what? To protect them from his wings? _ They wanted to see. That was the point.

Beelzebub pushed away from him to step back in the tub and look around. The colors indeed were dazzling and they were so big! They had that annoying demand of  _ Behold! Look upon me and tremble! _

And all the eyes. Enough to watch all around them, which must have been important at one time. 

He was not lying. He did seem to keep them in a nice, tidy order, unlike other angles who let them get fluffy and ratty.

"I was right," they said, crossing their arms. "Ugly."

They stepped closer, sloshing water around the tub, and jumped up, back into his arms, holding him with their knees tight around his waist and their arms around his neck and reached to run their fingers along the delicate bones protruding directly from his back, torn out of the ethereal plain and manifested as real. They wanted to dig into the aching muscles and pull the pain out of him and keep it for themselves.

Gabriel had not expected them to burst so dramatically from him and he dropped to his knees with a splash at the shallow end of the bath. 

He was tired, he was in pain, he wanted to cry. Everything had caught up with him so suddenly. He wanted to slump forward onto his front and sleep the next few millennia away rather than deal with it. Instead he had a naked, wet, beautiful, demon clung to him. Gently caressing his wings and gazing at them in awe.

He laughed.

"I don't think anyone has called them ' _ ugly _ ' before. A few people fainted. One was bedridden for a week. So..."

"I can see that. They can see me," they answered, petting upwards into the actual feathers themselves, just before one of the eyes. They were soft. So soft and iridescent and beautiful and, for a moment, Beelzebub truly hated them. Because theirs were....

Gabriel on his knees was something. They were not entirely sure if they liked it. This was better when they were on equal footing. 

"Talk to me, Angel. Confess." It was a tease, but they wanted Gabriel to unburden something, anything so that, at the very least they could understand.

He was going to say, 'I can' and proceed to explain how much he could see with that kaleidoscopic vision of his, now all encompassing Beelzebub's nudity. All of their scars, their burning pain, the infected, pestilent, pustule ridden hell they had suffered for most of Time. 

He was going to tell them about the nicknames he had been given over the years and let them climb up in his feathers, build a nest and hide. 

Instead he found himself confronted with a command he had feared. It came from an unlikely mouth but it was there.

_ 'Confess'?  _ Was it so obvious to them? His guilt and shame writ plain upon him. As though his many, many eyes betrayed him in their looking.

He was already on his knees.

The words came like a quiet breeze. 

"I should have fallen too."

Beelzebub's wandering hand stopped, buried thick in marginal coverts. That could not have been right.  _ Was he teasing? _

Beelzebub gripped one of his feathers and reached to tilt his face up.

"What was that?" they asked calmly.

All of his eyes were on Bee but he was looking straight through them, past them. 

"I confess. I should have fallen too."

There was no pulling back the water as the dam began to collapse within him.

"If not the first time then definitely the second."

They gripped tighter and pulled, taking the feather out complete and tossing it away to free their hand.

He  _ wasn't _ teasing. What an awful thing to tease about, fine, but they could take a joke.

They gripped his chin and moved closer to stare into his eyes. 

"No you shouldn't, stupid angel. Stop saying that. Why do you even think that?"

The sharp pain of the feather pulled from his skin was a satisfying response. 

He wanted more. 

More of the punishment he had never received.

" _ Betenos _ ," he said. "I loved her. I made love to her."

"So?" they snapped. "Make Love to her as much as you want. That does not mean to fall. You don't know what it means to fall!"

Beelzebub did not like this. Pathetic archangel thinking he should dive to Hell.  _ Why? Because he fucked someone? Should he fall because they fucked? Did that weigh on him? Did he care? _

Beelzebub made a strange, low, angry growl and reached again, taking one of the eyes in hand. The spot in the feather should not have felt different, but Beelzebub felt the malleable bulge of ethereal energy and squeezed until the eye popped. An unseen spray of colour, flooding the air and dissipating to nothing.

"You don't understand. We were sent to watch over them. The first people. There were hundreds of us there, on the Earth."

His face, his body did not react. The eyes on his wings did. They blinked and widened and seemed to panic.

"I thought it was ok. Some of the others were taking lovers and wives. They were having children and..."

He trailed off.

"That's why we had the flood."

"The flood?" 

It took a moment for them to remember the Great Flood. The one where God gave them a  _ rain-bow _ . Dick move just because they were upset. Maybe not at the locals now, but at these stupid angels who took human lovers.

"You're weak," they growled. "You're stupid and you're a snivelling brat. You couldn't handle falling. You were spared becauzzze it would break you. Think of that, hmm? Think you should be broken? You should! Stupid! Angel!"

Beelzebub grabbed more feathers and yanked them out in fistfuls, popping another eye or two in their fury before they grabbed the bones and yanked, hearing something snap.

The shock of it made them pause.

Gabriel fell forward in agony, gasping and clenching his teeth. A groan of pain rocked him as he sat on all fours, the same unblinking, faraway look on his face. 

"Maybe..." his lip trembled. "I should have been broken millennia ago. But I wasn't.

I went with the Archangels who asked for judgement to be passed on the Watchers and their Nephilim children. I said nothing.

I didn't know it was wrong. I had loved her and... she loved me. She was married and we worried about her falling pregnant and that's when I... took responsibility for that."

Beelzebub lifted a foot and shoved it against Gabriel's chest to look down at him and the way he had "taken responsibility." The castration scar flashed a little brighter than the skin around it.

Beelzebub had liked it. Had admired it, in fact. Now it made them upset to see it and they yanked Gabriel close by his shoulders, placing their mouth against his ear.

"Then you're stupid and complacent. And I am here to provide judgement. I am taking. That fucking wing." They nipped his earlobe, dragging the spongy flesh between their teeth.

Gabriel laughed.

He could not think of a more fitting punishment or torture. For it to come from Beelzebub's own hands, someone he cared about fiercely, was the kind of divine justice the world needed. 

"I was. Incredibly complacent, complicit, compliant even."

The eyes of his face still refused to engage with what was happening but his wings glared and flashed in the light. The eyes had begun to tremble and rise defensively.

" _ Proceed against the biters and the reprobates, and against the children of fornication: and destroy the children of the Watchers from amongst men. Those were my orders _ .

I was tasked with destroying the children of the angels, the Nephelim and any potential pregnancies associated with that."

"I bet you burned with righteous fury when you felled them. I bet you wept when you fucked her."

Beelzebub gripped his face, holding it a moment to let him stare and steep.

Then they simply climbed him and gripped directly at the knotted flesh they had worried about earlier. So tender and tight. They gripped and dug, glaring up at the eyes. The distant tingle from the metaphysical realm burned their fingertips as they wrenched upwards and tore it directly off the shoulder blade with a triumphant grunt. 

The flesh was weak. So weak. So soft and wet. Beelzebub slid down as they dropped the wing and rested against his back, holding him around the waist and pressing their cheek directly next to the wound.

"Hahahaha. You know me too well… Bee."

He was still going. Still confessing and explaining despite having just lost a limb.

"The thing is you're right. I thought I had been righteous. I had at least the decency to mutilate myself after my relationship with her began. The ones I tortured, the ones I sent down to you, they should have been more careful. More clever."

He was wheezing now. 

"The cruel part. The really cruel part of it is - I was still intact that first time. Nine months later, she has a son. You might even have heard of him. 

Noah.

You know I never connected those dots for centuries. Not until I heard Lamech's suspicions. 

By then it was too late. The flood was over. Everyone was dead. Drowned. Or punished. Sent to hell.

The only human's left on the planet, potentially my own bastard children.

Ha. Hahahaha."

He was beginning to run out of steam, slowly collapsing into the bath.

"Shut up," they said a little too softly for anything other than tenderly. They rubbed the wound and held him around the waist again. "Put this ugly thing away," they ordered, and pet his intact wing.

"Anything... for you... dear."

The wing folded back into the pocket dimension it was usually held in. 

The last ounce of strength Gabriel had in him before he blacked out.

"Pathetic."

There was a warmth to their voice as they fished Gabriel out of the water. They might be small, but they had strength to heft him up from the water and carry him like the poor broken Messiah back to the bed.

The bedding was soaked as they flopped Gabriel onto it. They sighed, standing over him, still naked and dripping themselves. With a little snap upwards, they miracled them dry so he would be comfortable when he woke.

Well, as comfortable as he could be, missing the wing and all.

Beelzebub ignored clothes as they laid down atop him, resting against his spine and tracing the lump of the torn wing. 

"I hate you," they whispered and closed their eyes, radiating a warmth across his poor body.

\----

The Archangel Gabriel was cold, naked, shivering, pallid when he came around.

The groaning started before he was fully conscious and was quickly stifled into quiet sobbing.

The details were hazy but he remembered enough to be upset; enough to hurt.

He was scared.

Beelzebub shifted, petting down his spine. They had put a sticky green concoction on it that smelled and was cold and minty, before plastering over. Unnecessary, as the angel could heal himself, but something to protect it while he was sleeping. 

"You did not sleep long enough," they mused and kissed near the rib they had been resting on. "You can sleep longer. Nobody will bother us."

He heard the demon on his back. He felt them. Their weight there was comforting. Their presence; a beautiful mystery.

"Bee?" he went very still. They were still there, lounging on him like a cat. He reached behind him to touch, when the pain of his  _ pteregotomy _ flashed like a shower of boiling needles through his body.

" _ Fuugghhaaah _ ."

"Don't move that arm," they reminded him and bit near his elbow as a reminder. "Do you hurt?"

" _ Nnnhgahh _ . Of course I fucking hurt. Bee?  _ Bee?! BEE!?... _

... you tore it out didn't you?"

He knew the answer but he wanted to check.  _ Why were they still here? _

_ Why hadn't they left him? Or discorporated him? Or destroyed him completely? _

They had torn and broken his body. Not just this Earthly form but his divine one too. They had ripped a part of his eternal soul cleanly away and discarded it in the bathroom of a four star business hotel.

They climbed up higher and gripped his hair, both clenching their fist and pushing his face down. 

"I did," they whispered. "Tore it clean off. Serves you right, thinking you should fall." 

They tossed is head away in annoyance and got up with a long, sinewy stretch that went from fingertip to toe. 

"Dressed it too, you fucking ingrate."

Before they could move away Gabriel reached back and grabbed Bee at the ankle. It was not a firm grip but it was needy and desperate.

His shoulder distorted grotesquely and the dressing threatened to tear.

"Don't... go."

He pleaded quietly through the self made agony. He wanted very much to see Beelzebub, their face, their eyes and just hold them under him. Bury his face into their chest and cry and sleep.

" _ Please _ ."

Bee got their stretch and then collapsed back down into a sitting position and carefully pried his fingers off their ankle. 

"Don't. Move. Your arm," they reminded him. "Took a lot to get that plaster to stick and you will not like where the material came from."

They crawled up and sat directly in front of his face. It took a moment before they reached out and rubbed his temples. 

"I'm here. Can't trust you to recover quietly anyways."

Relaxing to the touch, he kissed their feet reverently. Despite the pain and fear, just having Bee with him soothed over his spirit.

Smiling, "perhaps not. Hmmm... Did you want to order room service and watch adverts? It's going to take a while before I can move."

Kissing them more he toyed with the idea of giving away the depth of feeling he had for them. For this whole experience. He doubted his odds of surviving until the next one should he do that.

They pushed the sole of a foot flat to his face, a way to let him know that that was ticklish and either try something else or they were going to break his nose.

At least, with the bath, they were clean.

They leaned over again and nipped at his earlobe before they nuzzled and sniffed his clean hair.

"I'm ordering seven desserts and I need help finding the channel where they sell you stupid things you don't want. Then, _ yes _ . You will rest. You will put your head on this pillow on my lap so I make sure you rest because you are  _ stupid  _ and you will hurt yourself."

Then they bit his ear a little harder before they sat back up.

"Hmmm. Alright boss." 

Gabriel obeyed. Managing to wriggle up the bed he slumped into the demon's lap and nuzzled their belly.

He tuned the TV to QVC with a frivolous miracle and in the same motion clothed his bottom half in lilac joggers. On the bed beside Bee, a plaid purple nightshirt and lavender silk shorts manifested. A gentle reminder that answering the door naked was perhaps not the best idea. His black credit card sat on top of the shirt as a way to smooth over any potential demon-human interaction.

Then he got to work on healing. Even with divine intervention this would take some time.

"Hmmm. What have you glued to my back?"

He paused, considering the empty space: the void once occupied by gold and blue glittering feathers.

"And... What have you done with the wing?"

Beelzebub stared at the clothes set out and rolled their eyes, shrugging on the shirt and shorts. They were...very soft. Bee was distracted for a moment simply running the shorts against their thighs. 

"Left it in the bath. Why?" They moved in so he could see them. "Want me to eat it?" 

They pecked his nose and stood up without hearing the answer right away, pulling over the phone and smashing buttons until they finally got someone who would take their food order. 

They decided on every dessert on the menu, a bloody rare steak, mashed potatoes with caramel sauce, and gummy bears.

_ Was it for a party? _

Bee could sense the human on the line teasing them and almost melted through the phone to tear them limb from limb, but they said  _ no _ and said to hurry and hung up.

" _ Zzzzzzztupid humanzzzzzzz _ ."

The buzzing of flies and the little tink of their bodies against the glass of the window meant there were plenty of them out there, but Beelzebub was trying to keep them out so they wouldn't crawl all over Gabriel while he was resting. They sat cross-legged beside him and casually combed his hair with their fingers, waiting for the knock on the door.

"I am curious to see the results of you ingesting it if I'm honest; but it's probably best not to.

I just know we can't leave it lying around. Human's getting their hands on it would be... let's say 'exceptionally problematic'?"

Sighing at the demon's usual eccentricities, he enjoyed their fingers running over his scalp. Whenever they caught a sizable clump and tugged slightly a wonderful calm tingle ran up his spine. He was a wreck. Physically, emotionally, spiritually ruined. And here sat Prince Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies themselves, stroking his hair and cooing at him. 

Armageddon may not have destroyed the world; but the one the Archangel knew definitely seemed to have gone. 

"I was wondering if it could be reattached. It is just a dead, useless limb to me, but that way at least it would be hidden. Kept from the wrong hands.

I am open to suggestions?"

"Do you want me to stitch it back on?" they asked idly, seemingly only paying half attention to them as different items came up for sale on the screen. Such marvellously useless things.

"I'm not sure."

He was tired and he was soft and he fell back into the sweet bliss of unconsciousness. His final moments of clarity were absorbed by Bee's, steady, affectionate stroking, the details of some kind of electronic avocado peeler-masher-unstoner-and-egg-frier and the growing drone of flies buzzing in an unfathomable swarm.

Beelzebub tugged slightly on Gabriel's hair and then seemingly tossed him away as they got up. They were going to head to the bathroom, but the food was finally here and someone came with a rolling tray.

Beelzebub refused to let them in, tossing the black card from Gabriel at them, slapping them in the face with it to get them to leave. 

Leave faster than that!

Why were they swiping the card and then asking for a signature? 

"Go. Awaaaaay," Beelzebub droned, scratching their sigil onto the device, which sparked and nearly exploded. Beelzebub snapped and the stupid human turned away, driven to walk for the stairs and take a leap. They were lucky enough to be stopped by another employee, who snapped them out of it and rode down the stairs while they tried to remember the last ten minutes.

Beezlebub pushed the food up close to the bed and left it there, finally returning to the bathroom and dragging Gabriel's mangled wing off the tiled floor. They carried it back with them, hardly mindful of doors and walls, banging it on everything in their way and then climbed back up on the bed, straddling his backside. 

"My ice cream is going to melt," they complained, rubbing his spine with a gentler touch before they picked at the plaster.

" _ Nnng _ ."

He roused slightly and could smell the sickly sweetness of the desert and hear the TV host discussing some lingerie series. Bee was on his back, again. Teasing at his wound.

They were bent over with half an ear tuned to the channel until they had chipped off plaster. They bent down and sucked up the messy goop, spitting towards the empty bedding, until it was all clean. And then they leaned over and sucked on the wound a bit, tasting it.

When they sat up they groaned to the ceiling, taking a moment to settle, to collect, their fingers absently scratching him without thought or meaning. 

Finally, they tugged a fine black thread out of the air, pinched from dust, and tugged the needle through his skin first before they began to stitch the wing back in next to the other.

The fibres of muscle and sinew, nerve endings and ragged ends of skin stretched and coiled around the limp limb.

It had only been a few hours but the colour had drained from the wing. It's eyes were white and vibrance muted.

Gabriel's whole body shivered at each suture, the needle piercing living and dead tissue, grafting both together.

As they sewed, a tendril of the Archangel coiled around Bee's wrist, attempting to fuse it into his shoulder wound.

Beelzebub yanked up and then batted the tendril away, like a cat with a feather toy.

"I don't go there," they said to it, returning to the task. Their needlework was fast, precise, and, only because they could sense the pain, overdone. The wing would stick, so help them Satan, even if it was useless. They wondered how long the ache would follow him, how it would sit in the ethereal plain and what the other angels would see when they looked upon his form.

They would see Beelzebub. Or at least their touch. Would they pity him? Bee did not pity him. They took and they gave and they hoped they proved something. That torn wings and burnt flesh and treacherous Falls were not survived by the weak and the whimpering. 

And then it was done. Just so. Bee bit the string and the last of the thread disappeared along with the curved needle. They rolled off his hips and sat beside him, taking the slightly soupy sundae to their lap and slurping it.

Gabriel reached up slowly and placed a hand on their thigh. His breathing was heavy and strained. The broken wing tucked itself away leaving the sore, puckered needlework on display.

Watching Bee lap up the ice-cream, he felt a complex pang of emotion well up in him.

"Oh, your wrist."

The part where the tendril had wrapped had left a faint golden stain on the skin. A thin glistening bracelet.

"Yeah," they answered and shoved another glob into their mouth, smacking their lips obscenely around chocolate sauce and whipped cream. "Your 'andy work."

They grabbed a fistful of gummy bears and chucked them playfully at his head. "Won't come off either. Tried scrubbing. Licking. Best come up with a solution."

"Hmmm....."

He laughed.

"Guess we're both marked now."

They smacked him on the shoulder and let their hand wander naturally back up to his hair to pet and comb. Sitting soon became laying and then plucked gummies off his pillow like grapes from a vine while they watched an advert for a slicer-dicer-demicer.

Wincing with wet eyes, Gabriel could only continue to snicker through the pain.

They lay in comfort for several hours as the TV droned on eventually ending with the Archangel coiled around the demon spooning them towards the screen.

Gabriel drifted in an out of a doze, letting his body do its thing to heal. Bee fit perfectly up against his chest and was warm and comforting to hold. Occasionally he would squeeze them and press a few kisses against their neck before succumbing to sleep.

It seemed he kept doing that, coming in and out. When he was out, Bee ate their food, and when he was in, they let him hold them until he succumbed to slumber again.

Nearly two days passed as such. 

Still no solution to the gold mark on their wrist.

When the third day arrived, it appeared Gabriel was well enough to stand and stay upright. Beelzebub did not help him dress, just standing there in the purple silk shirt and shorts he had given them, waiting for him to put on his suit. Once the pants were on, Beelzebub snapped and were dressed back in their mess of a uniform. They could feel the little mites crawling up their arms, finding retreat back in their hair.

"We will do this again," they said, potentially a question, but hardly asked as such. "Send a message up. I like letters. Something to tear up and eat. However you do it, do not make it too long."

They popped up as he was trying to button his shirt apparently one-handed, still a bit groggy, and kissed him hard on the mouth, biting his lower lip between their teeth and dragging it as far away as they could. When they landed back on the floor, they sank into fire and ash and disappeared with a smoky sulphur smell for him to remember them by.

He watched them go. He missed them already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.  
> Sorry for exposing you to my weird, sort of tragic backstory, head canon for Gabe.  
> This idea is partially based off a dream I had as a teenager.  
> I was a weird teenager.
> 
> \- V

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first chapter of at least six (I have a good 50k more words to edit) and then we have vague plans for more roleplaying after that.
> 
> Many thanks to Waldos - who should really get in these notes and say something.  
> Many thanks to our fellow Sinners, the Good Omens community and Ineffable Bureaucracy fans.


End file.
